shiloh-monroe - Hello Poetry

I don't know if this makes sense But my garden grows inward. It takes the rain of negativity And wraps itself around sensitivities. Trauma grows like roots around my heart And drains the calcium from my bones. Blooming into ingrown flowers Dark with the fresh blood of regret. My fruits rot inside the ground Fertilizing the soil for a new inverted crop. My memories spread into Ivy Growing inward choking my circulation. My body absorbs Toxins like Water Feeding the weeds in my head Which grow inside and knot themselves Into Tumors of Longing. I don't know if this makes sense But my garden grows inward.

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Jan 1, 2022

Jan 1, 2022 at 9:28 PM UTC

My Garden Grows Inward

I don't know if this makes sense But my garden grows inward. It takes the rain of negativity And wraps itself around sensitivities. Trauma grows like roots around my heart And drains the calcium from my bones. Blooming into ingrown flowers Dark with the fresh blood of regret. My fruits rot inside the ground Fertilizing the soil for a new inverted crop. My memories spread into Ivy Growing inward choking my circulation. My body absorbs Toxins like Water Feeding the weeds in my head Which grow inside and knot themselves Into Tumors of Longing. I don't know if this makes sense But my garden grows inward.

18

I stared at your picture. Your eyes pierced me, Like knives of ice, And I die a little more. They catch in my throat And it hurts so much, All the emotions feel Like swallowing razors. I feel the warm trickle, Taste the bitter iron of regret. And I die a little more.

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Mar 27, 2021

Mar 27, 2021 at 5:23 AM UTC

Knives

I stared at your picture. Your eyes pierced me, Like knives of ice, And I die a little more. They catch in my throat And it hurts so much, All the emotions feel Like swallowing razors. I feel the warm trickle, Taste the bitter iron of regret. And I die a little more.

11

3:00 A.M. Smoke escapes my lips as I ponder existence. Death. Darkness. Depression. All just words that burn like this bowl. And at the end We all end up in smoke.

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Jan 9, 2017

Jan 9, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC

Existence

3:00 A.M. Smoke escapes my lips as I ponder existence. Death. Darkness. Depression. All just words that burn like this bowl. And at the end We all end up in smoke.

8

Do you remember when you were young? You more than likely had a favorite toy, right? Inseparable, you two were? You may or may not have had other toys too. Maybe you liked some of those a lot too? Even to the point of dropping your old favorite for a new one? Well, that original favorite toy broke when you dropped it. It has a permanent crack, forever marking your territory. You may not have intended to do that, but it happened. There isn't any way to fix that. But the least you could do is explain why to me.

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Dec 14, 2015

Dec 14, 2015 at 1:45 AM UTC

Toys

Do you remember when you were young? You more than likely had a favorite toy, right? Inseparable, you two were? You may or may not have had other toys too. Maybe you liked some of those a lot too? Even to the point of dropping your old favorite for a new one? Well, that original favorite toy broke when you dropped it. It has a permanent crack, forever marking your territory. You may not have intended to do that, but it happened. There isn't any way to fix that. But the least you could do is explain why to me.

11

I hate those silly noises you made. I hate that your mother passed. I hate the way your face still permeates my dreams. I hate that stupid side-bitch. I hate that we were best friends. I hate every time we talked. I hate that I fell for you. I hate that we became a couple. I hate every lie you told me. But most importantly I hate me For not being able to hate you

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Dec 14, 2015

Dec 14, 2015 at 1:38 AM UTC

I hate...

I hate those silly noises you made. I hate that your mother passed. I hate the way your face still permeates my dreams. I hate that stupid side-bitch. I hate that we were best friends. I hate every time we talked. I hate that I fell for you. I hate that we became a couple. I hate every lie you told me. But most importantly I hate me For not being able to hate you

12

Thine leaves art wilted, flying to and fro, And thy limbs reach out as if in sorrow. "Dost thou not remember what once was held?” Thy branches crack whilst leaves into dance meld. The moon doth rise as children’s laughter rings. Through the night thy old hollow solemnly sings Of twisted grins and melancholy wolf cries, And how every man thee meet sadly dies. But thy eternal heartbreak shall not wane Thy every breath will be met with pure pain; Death shall not return thee to its icy grip. Forevermore, thou shalt bring people to Death. Until the rope that hangs on thine branch cease, Cursed to be known only as The Hanging Tree.

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Oct 22, 2015

Oct 22, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC

All Hallow's Lament

Thine leaves art wilted, flying to and fro, And thy limbs reach out as if in sorrow. "Dost thou not remember what once was held?” Thy branches crack whilst leaves into dance meld. The moon doth rise as children’s laughter rings. Through the night thy old hollow solemnly sings Of twisted grins and melancholy wolf cries, And how every man thee meet sadly dies. But thy eternal heartbreak shall not wane Thy every breath will be met with pure pain; Death shall not return thee to its icy grip. Forevermore, thou shalt bring people to Death. Until the rope that hangs on thine branch cease, Cursed to be known only as The Hanging Tree.

14

So what if you have a big belly? So what if you have a pretty face? So what if you wear a little makeup, Or if you have a tiny waist? So what if you don't have *** Or if you keep 'em coming back for more? So what if you got that operation And renamed yourself Titti Galore? So what if your complexion is darker, Or if your skin is pale and white? So what if your name is Muhammad? Or Sharkeisha, Wu, or Dwight? So what if they say that you're different? Normality is subjective. And if they want to attack you, Curse words make very fine adjectives.

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Sep 16, 2015

Sep 16, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC

So What?

So what if you have a big belly? So what if you have a pretty face? So what if you wear a little makeup, Or if you have a tiny waist? So what if you don't have *** Or if you keep 'em coming back for more? So what if you got that operation And renamed yourself Titti Galore? So what if your complexion is darker, Or if your skin is pale and white? So what if your name is Muhammad? Or Sharkeisha, Wu, or Dwight? So what if they say that you're different? Normality is subjective. And if they want to attack you, Curse words make very fine adjectives.

16

Your tired little smiles and laughs that live a half-life before blossoming into sighs. Your spontaneous songs, sourly smacking notes from your brain. Your insane babblings that whisper sweetly to me. Your goose-like honk, signaling the fast approach of sleep. Your utterly annoying playful shrugs. That's the **** I'll miss...

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Jul 31, 2015

Jul 31, 2015 at 4:46 AM UTC

The **** I'll Miss

Your tired little smiles and laughs that live a half-life before blossoming into sighs. Your spontaneous songs, sourly smacking notes from your brain. Your insane babblings that whisper sweetly to me. Your goose-like honk, signaling the fast approach of sleep. Your utterly annoying playful shrugs. That's the **** I'll miss...

14

A friend whose light far exceeds any other. Two whose world is illuminated by that light. What would it take to light my darkness? What cost? He grasps Light's hand and pulls in for an embrace. I watch, happily hurt. A smile simply stinging my face. Their kiss pushes the knife deeper into my chest. You deserve to be happy, even if I'm consigned to this fate.

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Jul 8, 2015

Jul 8, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC

Torn.

A friend whose light far exceeds any other. Two whose world is illuminated by that light. What would it take to light my darkness? What cost? He grasps Light's hand and pulls in for an embrace. I watch, happily hurt. A smile simply stinging my face. Their kiss pushes the knife deeper into my chest. You deserve to be happy, even if I'm consigned to this fate.

9

It's dark outside... Inside it's worse. Being without you is rough. Knowing it's my fault is worse. Losing all hope in myself Over things I can't change. That's bad. Imagining living one more day Feeling like I do now... **** That's the worst.

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Mar 12, 2015

Mar 12, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC

****

It's dark outside... Inside it's worse. Being without you is rough. Knowing it's my fault is worse. Losing all hope in myself Over things I can't change. That's bad. Imagining living one more day Feeling like I do now... **** That's the worst.

11